


For Eternity

by eledhwenlin



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-23
Updated: 2005-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 18:11:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's afraid of losing Pip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for danachan as part of the slashy_letters community
> 
> Thanks to ullman who betaed this for me and assured me that it doesn't suck. I'm eternally grateful for that, dear.  
> This was the first time I tried writing Merry/Pippin. Feedback would be lovely.

It strikes him how beautiful Pippin is. Not just pretty, like Pimpernel or graceful like Pearl. Pippin radiates a breath-taking, Earth shattering, universal beauty that requires Merry's complete attention, otherwise he'd be afraid to miss but one tiny glimpse of this.

Lazily he wonders why that realisation hits him now, as he pats Pippin's head and watches him sleep through half-closed eyes. Their relationship isn't new, actually they'd been in this for a very long time already, for what seems to be an eternity. Pip has always been there, a constant. First as a playmate, when both of them had been innocent children, then later as a friend, cooking up mischief wherever they could, until they came to this, this strange love that shouldn't be and still is.

Pippin moves slightly in his sleep, his face crunching up as if in deep thought, turning towards Merry, who's being interrupted in his pondering, until Pippin settles down again, face relaxing gradually. Merry smiles amused, while he picks up his old train of thought again. He doesn't remember anymore who was the first to figure it out, whether it'd been Frodo or Sam, but he still remembers his anguish. The outright terror at being found out.

You don't love lads, love is a barrier even close friends never cross. Those are restricted to mere affection, but never love. Never. Behind closed doors you might fool around, of course, but as soon as you come of age, you're expected to marry a pretty lass and produce many, many children.

He also still remembers the relief, when Frodo had invited them to Bag End and had very calmly told them, while grinning all the time, that they ought to be a bit more careful about showing their emotions, lest someone else noticed it.  
After that afternoon they had spent more and more time at Bad End, which explains why Merry's leaning against one of Frodo's apple trees, Pippin sleeping fitfully on his lap.

Once again Pippin interrupts Merry's pondering, when he stretches lazily and opens his eyes, blinking up at Merry with the most innocent expression on his face.

"Hey, sleepyhead."

"'m not."

Merry raises his eyebrow eloquently and doesn't comment on the fact that hobbits near coming of age don't need twelve and more hours of sleep. Instead he watches Pippin wake up properly and once again he is mesmerised by the sheer beauty this invokes. Not that he'd ever say that out loud.

When Pippin sits up and turns towards Merry, he can see mischief glittering in those oh-so-innocent eyes.

"Well, since we have feasted and rested... what will we do now?"

Merry shrugs. He doesn't really care, as long as it doesn't involve going home any time soon.

"I -"

He is interrupted, as Pippin leans in close and kisses him. Pip still tastes like the apple pie they had earlier and the sweet mix from honey and sugar is intoxicating. He wants to taste more of this, so he opens his mouth and lets his tongue sneak out to catch more of this delicacy, his hand finding Pippin's head and pulling him closer. Merry barely notices Pippin's smile, but right now it doesn't matter whether the younger one thinks that Merry's desperate for this, as long as they don't stop kissing, that is. He is lost in the sweetness that is Pippin's mouth, in this drink of honey and something utterly Pippin. He is pretty sure that this makes him pathetic, but he can cope with that, if he gets this in return.

Pippin opens his mouth, too, his tongue joining Merry's in a bizarre dance of their own. Gracefully he slips onto Merry's lap without breaking their kiss. Merry thinks that he could stay like this forever.

They only break apart, when the need for air becomes too urgent. Gasping, slowly regaining their breath, they lie in each other's arms, touching and caressing softly nevertheless.

It should be always like this, Pippin close to him and the rest of the world so far away. He showers Pippin's face with kisses, as a sudden, inexplicable fear of losing this, of losing Pippin, overcomes him and he buries his face in Pip's hair, breathing in deeply. Pippin catches on immediately and hugs him tightly.

"Hey, I'm not going to leave any time soon."

Merry only manages to nod, his throat constricting. But how long will Pippin still be here with Merry? How long will it take before his father forces him to marry? They never really talk about this, treat it like the danger isn't there. They both know that they can't escape this, but talking would make it too real. A reality they're both trying to flee.

But Merry isn't given much time to dwell on this. Suddenly Pippin throws himself backwards, pulling Merry on top of him. Kissing him deeply, Pippin works his nimble fingers beneath Merry's clothes, seeking skin.

"What are you doing?"

It's only a whisper, desire and fear warring with each other inside him. Pippin looks up at him and only smiles innocently, when he'd never actually been that.

"I'm trying to comfort, what did you think I'm doing?"

"But... here?"

A laugh is his answer. "Yes, here. You know Frodo won't mind."

The cool hands on his skin are utterly distracting, as they paint invisible patterns. Already he's beginning to forget why this is a bad idea, but then his vest is gone and Pippin is busy fighting with the buttons on Merry's shirt and then he decides that it doesn't matter anyway.

He joins Pippin in the amusing race of getting rid of their clothes. A detached part of himself is still rambling about the insanity of this, but another, much bigger part is thoroughly enjoying this, as insane as it might be. Besides they're already half-naked and their fumbling has grown to outright groping, a certain kind of fear shining through. They have done this so often now that they know where to touch by heart, so it doesn't take long before the both of them are completely aroused.

Suddenly Merry notices a major flaw in this idea: he doesn't have any lube with him and he surely isn't going to do without. Causing Pippin pain isn't an option. He breaks the kiss, ignoring Pippin's sound of dismay and tries to sit up. But Pip has slung his legs around his waist, thus holding him down.

"What are you trying to do here?" He sounds exasperated and also a bit hurt. Merry can't quite suppress a sigh before he leans down and looks earnestly at Pippin.

"Pip, I don't have anything to prepare you with."

Pippin's face lights up and a clear laugh escapes him. "But I got something!"

Dumbstruck Merry watches Pippin grab his breeches and fumble in his pockets until he found a small container. Never before has Pippin been prepared for this, Merry had always been the one who had thought about everything. That Pippin has planned this feels strange and he is sure that there is something more to it than Pippin lets on, but right now he doesn't really want to think about it.

So he leans down and kisses Pip thoroughly, while his hands sneak out to cover Pippin's, taking the lube from him. Carefully he puts some of it on his fingers. No matter how often they've done this, he's always worried about hurting Pippin and won't start until he is assured that Pippin is prepared.

Merry cautiously prods at the small opening with one finger, gently probing, until Pippin urges him to move on. Inserting one finger, then two, scissoring, ignoring the impatient sounds, completely absorbed in this task. Three fingers and Pippin can't hold still any longer. Merry smiles and gives in. As he coats his cock sufficiently, he already positions himself, waiting for Pippin's command.

"Please. Do it now."

Who is he to deny his Pippin his pleasure? The first thrust is always the most intoxicating, blowing his mind free from every thought, but the delicious tight heat surrounding him. Pippin whimpers and slowly Merry starts thrusting and pulling out, angling himself so that he hits that sweet spot on every thrust.

They kiss feverishly, completely into their own pleasure, forgetting that a world outside this garden even exists. One of Merry's hands sneaks downwards and takes care of Pippin's cock, closing around it, moving slowly.

Pip's hardly concealed moans tell him that he is close and Merry himself feels his own orgasm coming. As always this, the moments of this delicious pressure building up, this exquisite pain and pleasure until the orgasm hits, doesn't last even nearly long enough, although Merry isn't sure that is a "long enough" at all. Sometimes he wishes that this state would last for an eternity, but then an eternity might not be long enough for them to be remain in this point of time.  
They reach the peak almost simultaneously, Pippin surrendering only moments earlier than Merry. Panting shallowly he can't prevent from collapsing on the smaller hobbit, but arms encircle his waist and hold him close, so he gives in. As always, their orgasms bear something like sadness or grief, because their game is over, but it is a nice burden.

For an endless while, or so it seems to him, they lie like that, sun and wind caressing their skin. It is too beautiful a moment to break it with words, so they keep their silence. Merry knows that there is something he should be utterly afraid of, but it is hard worrying, when Pippin is so close, when only Pippin and he exist and everything else ceases to be. These moments are what he lives for, they make all the hassle worthwhile in the end.

Time passes too soon and later, when they're cleaned up and dressed again, Merry remembers his anguish, but he puts it into a distant part of his mind to worry about it later. Not now, he tells himself, later, another time, but not now.  
It is but a week later, when Sam comes to tell them something about Frodo and so the matter is put off for a very long time.


End file.
